Realization
by sick-atxxheart
Summary: The Avengers decide that Clint and Natasha are in love with one another, but haven't realized it yet. They decide to help their resident assassins along, as it's evident that they are two halves of a whole. Clintasha.


**Realization  
**_by sick-atxxheart_

_Warnings: Some swear words._

* * *

"Okay," Tony said seriously. "I've called this team meeting–" He paused and glanced around the table. "Well, the team minus Clint and Natasha and plus Pepper–"

"Tony," Steve sighed. "Get to the point."

"Right, got it," Tony said, nodding at Steve, Thor, Bruce, and Pepper. "Reason for team meeting. I think Clint and Natasha are in love with one another."

His announcement was met with a startled silence. Thor and Pepper both started to speak at the same time, looking confused.

"You think the Hawk and the Spider are in love with one another?" Thor asked.

"I hate saying these words, Tony, but I think you may be right," Pepper said.

Steve held up a hand. "Okay, wait a minute here. Clint and Natasha, in love with one another? Where is this even coming from?"

"It's not that unreasonable," Tony protested. "Think about it! They're inseparable, attached at the hip even. I think either one would bite your head off if you tried to hurt the other."

"They're partners," Steve protested. "That's completely normal."

Bruce looked thoughtful, speaking for the first time. "I think Tony's right, too," he said contemplatively. "But–"

Tony didn't wait to hear the rest of his sentence. "Yes! I knew I was right. There's no way those two aren't together!"

"I said, but," Bruce interjected a little more loudly. "I think they're in love with one another. I just don't think they know it."

The rest of the group just stared, except for Pepper, who was nodding and smiling. "What do you mean?" Thor asked. "How can people not know that they love one another?"

"Think about it," Bruce said. "They're inseparable. We can all agree on that. I've noticed that when there is a choice to be made, about anything, they always defer to one another first. But when they find each other looking, waiting for the other's answer, they act surprised. It's as if they know that they implicitly trust one another – but they haven't realized what that means yet."

Pepper nodded one more time before speaking. "In some ways, their relationship appears seamless," she said. "I've been around the Tower enough to know that. But it just seems like they are a puzzle, one that almost fits but is missing a piece, in a way."

"We don't know that they are, though," Steve said, still looking slightly hesitant. "What if they're just really close?"

"They only trust one another," Thor interjected. "I've noticed that much."

Tony latched onto that idea. "That's true," he exclaimed. "We've all seen their files, the little that's in them. Their backgrounds are almost completely confidential, which is basically just another way of saying they're shit. For them to implicitly trust one another, and only one another, has to mean something."

Steve hesitated for a moment, and then shrugged. "There might be something there," he said. "But what does that have to do with us?"

Tony grinned. "I think we need to give Clint and Natasha a little push."

"You mean help them realize their true feelings?" Bruce questioned, looking interested.

"I believe doing that might be risking serious bodily harm," Steve said worriedly. Tony laughed.

"The feelings are already all there!" Tony said. "All we have to do is help them realize it. They already do enough things that make it seem like they are a couple – we just need to start pointing them out. Is everybody on board?"

There were a few more moments of thought and deliberation, but eventually everyone agreed.

Tony's grin was infectious. "Okay guys, here's what we're going to do…"

* * *

Once he got used to the idea, Steve enjoyed watching Clint and Natasha interact with one another, and started to think that Tony may have been right about them being in love with one another.

Steve was making breakfast one morning when Natasha stumbled in. She was alert, but clearly wanted coffee. Steve handed it to her and inwardly smirked.

"Where's Clint?" he asked.

Natasha looked startled. "Clint? I don't know. I don't keep tabs on him every minute."

Steve turned back to the stove. "Oh, my mistake. Sorry, I thought you two did."

Natasha stared at him for a long moment before turning on her heel and striding out of the room, taking her coffee with her. Steve turned around to face Tony, who had been watching the whole exchange, and met his eyes.

Tony grinned broadly. "Nice job, Cap," he said. "You've got this thing down."

* * *

The Avengers found themselves facing one of their toughest adversaries yet – Monteroy, a billionaire businessman with nearly unlimited funding who had the dream of flattening New York City. He was cunning, incredibly unpredictable, and talented at keeping his hands clean. He had hordes of loyal henchmen to do the dirty work, and the Avengers were having a hard time getting enough intelligence to attempt to successfully infiltrate his headquarters.

They had just begun to get somewhere on their plans when they received a threat from Monteroy, in video form. The billionaire stood in front of a map of New York City and pointed out strategic locations on the map.

"These are the points at which I have planned my attack. Maybe, at least," he said, smirking. "It's strategically designed to destroy the city. My suggestion is that you take drastic measures – notably, sending one of your superheroes to negotiate. Perhaps then I will change my mind." The man's smirk grew larger. "I suggest you send the girl."

With those words, the video had cut off, leaving the Avengers and Fury in silence. Natasha's shoulders had straightened as soon as she heard her name mentioned by the man, and Clint could practically hear her begin to build up her mental barriers.

Before Fury could even speak, Bruce did. "I'm not sure this is safe," he said. "It's probably just a distraction, and he has no intent of changing his plans. All we would be doing is forfeiting some of our advantage."

Fury held up a finger. "We have to look at this from all angles," he said. "Agent Romanoff is trained in situations like this. If she is sent in and we stage a surprise attack within hours, that distraction may prove worthwhile."

Clint stared at the other man for a long moment. "At what cost?" He finally asked. Fury's mouth tightened, but he said nothing.

Natasha's head whipped around to stare at Clint. "I will be _fine_," she said emphatically, looking irritated. "Now, let's start making plans so I can be ready."

For the next few hours, Natasha was outfitted with recording devices, hidden weapons, and enough knowledge of the compound so that if necessary, she could sufficiently navigate through it. Out of solidarity and to show they understood the enormity of Natasha's commitment, the rest of the team remained throughout the entirety of the briefing.

Natasha wouldn't talk to anyone that evening, and went to bed early in preparation for the next morning. "She's mentally preparing herself," Clint explained that night, sounding more morose than the rest had ever heard him. "She knows what's coming."

Steve expressed his displeasure at the plan. "I don't like it," he said. "It seems too dangerous. There's too much room for error, too much room for… pain."

Clint looked at the table for a long moment. "Fury wasn't lying when he said we are trained for this," he said quietly. "She knows what she's up against."

The team had no response to that. It was easy to forget sometimes that Clint and Natasha were not only members of the Avengers, but they were also under S.H.I.E.L.D.'s employ. What the organization would ask them to do, and they would follow willingly, was amazing.

The next morning, the team rose bright and early to see Natasha off and to prepare for their attack that would follow a few hours after her arrival at the headquarters. Natasha came out of her room, dressed in her regular battle gear, and spoke to no one.

Bruce was the first one to notice that something was awry. "Hey, where's Clint?" he said, sounding concerned.

Tony looked around. "I don't know," he said. "Has anyone seen him this morning?"

Natasha's eyes darted around, looking startled. "Shit!" She yelled. "He wouldn't, damn him–"

She ran off into the other room frantically, clearly searching for something. The rest of the team followed her hurriedly, wondering what she had meant.

Natasha had entered Clint's room and torn it apart, clearly looking for his weapons. There were none.

She turned and looked at the rest of them, breathing heavily. Her eyes were dark with anger and what could only be described as a hint of worry. "He's taken my place," she said quietly. "He's gone to Monteroy."

The room burst into movement. They were now behind – Clint had been with the insane billionaire for who knows how long, and they weren't completely ready for their attack.

"We have to go now," Tony said, looking his teammates in the eyes. "We don't have time to wait for Fury's plan anymore." The rest nodded in agreement. Everyone but Natasha was thinking the same thing: Clint had really screwed things up by sacrificing himself in Natasha's place, but they understood why he had.

Getting to Monteroy's headquarters didn't take long; neither did breaking into the compound. Once they got inside, however, things got a bit more complicated. The building was built like a maze, with a remarkable amount of heavily armed guards stationed at each turn. It appeared that the only way to go was down, further into the building.

What seemed to work best was sending the Hulk out first to smash his way through the maze and take out any guards who happened to get in his way. Tony, Thor, Steve, and Natasha all followed, picking their way through the debris and finishing off anyone that Hulk's rampage hadn't taken care of.

It was slow and rough-going, and the team took on more injuries than they had cared to. What they found when they finally reached the basement, however, surprised them: there was nothing, no crazed billionaire or massive weapons system, just a few jail cells.

"Damn it," Steve said. "This was his play. Have us fight through in order to weaken us, taking our minds off his attack."

"Clint's important, too," Natasha said absent-mindedly, frantically picking her way through the destruction to get to the first still intact jail cell. "Come on, Clint. You better be in here, you…"

A few well-placed kick later, and they were in through the door. Sure enough, there was Clint, leaning against the wall. His face was almost unrecognizable, there were burn marks on his body, and it was hard to tell whether or not he was conscious.

Natasha ran over to him while the rest of the Avengers crowded through the door, waiting to see what Natasha would do. Even the Hulk seemed to realize that something important was going on, as he had stopped smashing and was just standing quietly for once.

They were all surprised when Natasha did not express relief at Clint being safe or ask about the extent of his injuries. Instead, she slapped his face gently to wake him up and then started asking him a series of questions.

Natasha knelt down in front of him. "Hands?" She said sharply, her eyes boring into his face. Clint's eyes slowly fluttered open.

"H-Hey, Nat," he said. "Figured you'd get here soon."

Natasha ignored him. "Hands?" She asked again, more forcefully this time. Steve turned and looked curiously at Tony, who just shrugged.

Clint held out his bloodied hands and wiggled his fingers. Natasha nodded decisively. "Shoulders?" She asked next, waiting expectantly.

Clint moved his arms slowly away from his body and up to his head, flexing his shoulders. "Good," he said softly. "Fine."

"Eyes?" Natasha asked last, staring Clint down once more.

"They're fine," Clint said. "They were i-idiots, Nat, I swear, didn't know how to do anything–"

"Just because they didn't harm you in a way that matters permanently, doesn't mean it doesn't matter," Natasha replied, sounding both angry and sad at the same time. She rose.

"I can't carry him," she said to Thor. "Can you…?" He nodded and moved forward, picking up their resident archer, who protested feebly but eventually relaxed into the other man's arms.

"What was all that about?" Tony asked as they headed out of the building, keeping an eye out for any remaining guards.

Natasha refused to look at him. "If you're going to torture Clint, there's really only one way to do it," she said. "You can put him in pain, but if you want to really harm him, break his fingers, or his shoulders, or ruin his eyes. He was lucky this time, that idiot. Clint wouldn't survive without his bow." She turned to glare at Tony and Steve, who was walking behind him. "Surely you know him well enough to be able to tell that."

* * *

Clint spent a few nights in the infirmary, and when he returned, things in the house were tense. Natasha refused to speak to him, and he seemed to be accepting of that. He limped around the house for a while, practiced archery for his usual countless hours, and seemed to just be waiting for things to go back to normal.

"What is going on?" Thor finally asked him at the table one morning, when Natasha was notably absent. Tony, Steve, and Bruce all looked on with interest.

Clint shrugged. "She's furious with me," he said. "Basically, she's waiting until I heal, and then she'll beat the hell out of me again and yell at me. After that, things will be okay."

Bruce looked at him with interest. "Is that really how you two communicate?"

Clint shrugged again. "Yeah," he said, a small, seemingly fond smile on his face. "I guess it is."

The expected fight came exactly three days later, when Clint's limp had gone away, his cuts had all scabbed over, and his body seemed to be in working order. Tony came running into the living room, where Thor, Steve, and Bruce had been relaxing after a long day.

"It's happening!" He cried excitedly. "They're fighting it out down in the training room, screaming and everything!" Tony ran back downstairs, cackling madly. "It's like a show!"

The rest followed him down to the training room, where they saw that Tony had been right. Clint and Natasha were engaged in a full-on fight, but it was clear that Clint was only reacting defensively. It was obvious that they had been fighting for a while, but Natasha was still screaming nearly at the top of her lungs.

"You – ass!" She said, thrashing out at him. "You had no right to take my place! I was prepared! You could have been killed!"

"I wasn't," Clint responded reasonably, blocking her punches and weaving in and out as part of the intricate dance they had started. "And you could have, too."

"It was my place!" Natasha cried. "I had come to terms with it! What you did was underhanded, sneaky, and unfair! It completely surprised me, and I didn't know how to handle it except I knew I wanted to kick your ass."

She punched out one more time and then stopped abruptly, her arms falling feebly to her side. Clint followed suit, and she looked up at him sadly. "That's not what partners do," she said, so quietly the rest of the Avengers had to strain to hear her.

Clint stepped closer and whispered a few inaudible words to her. As soon as she had done so, she turned away and stomped towards the door, right were Tony, Bruce, Steve, and Thor were.

Tony couldn't resist. "Lover's spat?" He said teasingly, a grin on his face.

Natasha glared and stepped up to him, her face directly in his. "Shut the hell up, Stark," she said dangerously. "You don't know anything."

She stomped off through the door, and Clint followed her, shrugging his shoulders apologetically. Tony's grin was still there. "We know more than you think we do," he said in a singsong voice. The only response he got was a slamming door.

* * *

It appeared that the Avengers were having a cursed month, as just a few weeks later Natasha found herself in a similar situation. When they had rescued Clint, Monteroy, the billionare who had originally asked for Natasha had gotten away. It appeared he had been serious about capturing the Black Widow, and had done so with such stealth that not only had the Avengers not realized until it was too late, but Natasha had been surprised as well.

Clint had been spitting mad, as the rest of the team had expected. Only the promise of him being able to personally take out the person responsible, if at all possible, had calmed him down enough to be at least able to function properly.

Attacking the complex where Natasha was being held proved more difficult than they had expected, and it took significantly longer than it would have if the Avengers had had their red-haired assassin with them. Periodically Clint could be heard muttering brokenly over the comm, his words accompanied by the sharp twang of his bow. He appeared to be drawing comfort from taking out as many of the enemies swarming the building as possible.

The team had spread out within the building, and it was Thor who first found Natasha. His rumbling voice announcing the discovery was so loud that it nearly shocked everyone.

"I have found her!" He exclaimed, relaying where he was in the building.

Steve asked the question he knew everyone was thinking. "Is she… alive?" He said softly, hearing Clint's breath catch.

Tony could practically hear Thor nod emphatically. "She's breathing," he said. "She needs attention though, friends... She's acting strangely. Hurry!"

Everyone began working to fight their way out of their respective corners of the building, heading towards where Thor had said he was. Steve arrived first and stopped short in the doorway, looking curiously into the room

Thor was crouched on the floor in front of Natasha, his hand stretched out towards her. It appeared she had been thrown into the empty room after Monteroy's agents had been done torturing her; the room was not a torture chamber, but rather a jail cell. Natasha was bruised, beaten, and looked exhausted, but she was still crouched in the corner of the room in a modified fighting stance, feebly punching at the air whenever Thor moved closer to her.

"What's going on?" Tony asked, arriving in his clunky metal suit.

"She won't listen to me," Thor responded. "I keep telling her she's safe, but she's ignoring it."

"I think she doesn't realize who we are," Steve said slowly. "She's–"

His next words were cut off by Clint pushing past him into the room, his bow clutched tightly in his hand. Thor immediately moved out of the way, letting Clint kneel in front of Natasha.

Clint carefully analyzed the situation, noticing Natasha's defensive stance and her bloodied body, his face drawn tight. He remained silent and still for a long moment before looking up at the rest of the Avengers and holding out his bow.

"Someone hold this, please," he said wearily. His teammates stared at him for a long moment before Steve reached out and delicately took hold of the bow. Clint had never before willingly handed off his bow to any of them, in any situation.

Clint held out his hands in a placating motion, and Natasha had just begun to sluggishly move to react defensively when he reached out and placed his palms delicately on her shoulders. She flinched, but Clint just said softly, "It's Clint, Natasha. It's Clint."

She stared into his eyes for a moment. "Clint?" Natasha blinked a few times, and it was almost as if her body began to deflate. "Safe?" Her voice trembled slightly over the single syllable. "Safe?"

Clint nodded. "Safe," he responded quietly. "I promise."

She stared into his eyes for another beat, and then leaned back against the wall and closed her eyes, looking defeated. Clint sighed quietly, and seemingly forgetting that the rest of the team was in the room, brushed a piece of hair away from her face. Then he reached over, picked Natasha up bridal-style, and stood up. "Let's go," he said to the team, holding Natasha close to his chest.

The rest followed, Steve glancing down to the bow in his hands. If there had been any doubt before, Clint's priorities were now clear as day.

* * *

It was a rather strange day for Pepper. She could meet and successfully negotiate with high-powered businessmen, run a global company, help manage its budget, and even handle Tony Stark on a daily basis. If asked, Pepper would have said she could handle pretty much anything.

She had never expected, however, to be dress shopping with one of the deadliest assassins in the world.

Being the only two women living in Avengers Tower helped. There was formal dinner coming up that Fury had decided was a requirement for all the Avengers to attend, and Natasha had invited Pepper with her to go find something to wear.

Pepper had nearly fallen over when Natasha asked her. Not only was she surprised by what appeared to be an invitation of friendship or at least acquaintance from the assassin, but she hadn't expected Natasha to actually shop. She had always figured the other woman sent away for specially tailored clothes.

When Pepper asked that question, Natasha just shrugged. "I do, mostly," she said. "But I'm out of time to send for a dress, so I'll have to make do with whatever I can find."

Thus Pepper found herself wandering through the dress section of a high-end store with Natasha, who she knew to be heavily armed and in tune with every single thing occurring around them. It was quite surreal.

Pepper shook her head slightly as if to get rid of those thoughts and returned to browsing the racks. Natasha hadn't found anything to try on yet, and Pepper tentatively pulled out a dress.

"You could try this one," she suggested, holding out a form-fitting midnight blue sheath dress. Natasha eyed it for a moment before shaking her head.

"No, Clint wouldn't like it," she replied, before seemingly realizing what she had said and turning away quickly.

Inwardly, Pepper smirked. "Is Clint your date?" She asked, putting the dress back on the rack and pretending to browse again.

"Of course he isn't," Natasha responded, sounding irritable. Her back was still to Pepper.

Pepper eyed another dress, a black one made primarily of lace with a bit of tulle in the skirt. It was beautiful, but still dressy enough both for the event and for an adult woman to wear. "Then why does it matter whether or not Clint likes the dress?"

If Natasha didn't have such a strong hold on her emotions, Pepper swore she would have been blushing. "It doesn't," she said firmly, reaching over and taking the blue dress Pepper had first selected. "I can wear whatever I want."

"Of course you can," Pepper said, risking grabbing the hanger back from the master assassin. "But why wouldn't you want to?"

Natasha glanced around as if to see if anyone was watching, and leaned a bit closer to Pepper. Pepper was shocked to see that this time, she actually was blushing. "I dress up often," she revealed softly, glancing at the black lace dress Pepper was holding. "Clint said once that if I'm not dressing up for work, I should dress to be pretty, not sexy, because I look best that way."

She turned away, the moment broken. Natasha brushed her hands against her jeans as if to rid herself of the topic. "Anyway. It always stuck with me."

Pepper grinned openly. She had guessed that Clint was a good man, but didn't know enough about him to say for certain. Now, she had no doubt. She held out the black lace dress. "How about this one? I'd say it's pretty."

Natasha's eyes darted to hers, and she reached out and took the dress. Her eyes sparkled slightly. "I think it just might work," she said, turning and heading towards the dressing room. Pepper couldn't hold back her chuckle.

A week later, Natasha wore that dress to the dinner and walked in arm-in-arm with Clint, glaring at anyone who gave them a second look. She met Pepper's eyes and then glanced down, smoothing her dress.

Pepper sidled up to her and whispered, "The dress was a good choice. You look very pretty."

Natasha's lip quirked. "Thank you," she said softly. "So I've been told."

* * *

Thor spoke up at the breakfast table one morning when Clint and Natasha were out on a mission. "I've noticed something," he said. "About our experiment."

Tony looked up. "About the master plan to get Clint and Natasha together so they can have frightening spider-hawk babies that will torment us for the rest of our lives? That plan?"

Steve and Bruce both rolled their eyes. Thor just looked confused.

"I'm not sure what you mean, man of iron," he replied, glancing at the other two for help. They just shook their heads. "Anyway. Tonight, when Clint and Natasha come back from their mission, they will not sleep in their beds."

"Where will they stay?" Bruce asked, frowning.

"They'll watch movies on the couch all night, after everyone else goes to bed," Thor revealed. "My sleep schedule is different from yours, and I've seen them before, avoiding sleep like the plague."

Steve looked thoughtful. "Maybe they're waiting for the adrenaline from their mission to wear off," he suggested.

"Maybe they're looking to avoid nightmares," Bruce countered softly, glancing over at his teammates. No one else had any response to that.

Tony rose abruptly from the table. "Right," he said. "Well, if they're going to watch movies, then we're going to help them."

When Tony entered the living room the next day, he was pleased to see the new set of movies he had purchased opened, one of them in the player, and the new blankets he had purchased strewn haphazardly back onto the couch.

* * *

It had become something of a tradition to go out to eat after a battle, if they weren't too injured to handle waiting a few hours to go to medical. It was at one of these restaurants that for the first time, Natasha's resolve on hiding her feelings for Clint appeared to break.

The waitress had been flirting with Clint rather ridiculously for the last five minutes, and it appeared to be getting to Natasha. Her grip on her glass was getting tighter and tighter, and she finally slammed it down on the table.

"What's wrong?" Steve asked, looking at her and then glancing at Clint.

"Nothing," Natasha said quickly. "Nothing at all."

Tony eyed Clint and the waitress. The waitress was clearly interested in Clint, but anyone who was watching for any extended period of time would see how Clint's eyes periodically flicked over to Natasha, and how he was answering the waitress perfunctorily, not at all committed to speaking with her but just trying to be polite.

"Does that bother you?" Tony asked, sounding remarkably gentle.

Natasha didn't answer for a long moment, and when she did, her voice was uncharacteristically quiet. "Yeah, a bit," she said, surprising the rest of them.

"Why?" Steve said, his eyes catching Tony's for a moment, smirking.

"I don't know!" Natasha exclaimed, slamming her glass forcefully down once more. She rose, and her voice turned into a hiss so that Clint couldn't hear her. "I don't know. But he and I are a team. We are a pair. And this – this bothers me."

She stomped off to go who-knows-where, and Tony couldn't keep back his grin. "It's working," he said gleefully, glancing over at Clint.

* * *

Bruce had just stepped out onto the balcony when he noticed Clint sitting precariously on the railing. The man was not only siting in plain sight, which was unusual enough, but he also barely moved when Bruce had opened the door.

"Clint?" Bruce said softly, trying not to startle the man. Clint's head whipped around and he met Bruce's eyes.

"Hey, Bruce," he said. He returned his gaze to the skyline, looking like he was staring off into space.

"Everything okay?" Bruce asked, leaning against the railing next to Clint.

Clint was quiet for a long few moments, and Bruce followed suit, hoping the silence would encourage the other man to start speaking. Eventually, the wait paid off.

"I… I want to move forward with something," Clint said slowly, eying Bruce as if trying to communicate something unsaid. "I'm just afraid that I'll lose something even more important if it goes wrong."

Bruce couldn't help but smirk to himself. Clint was clearly talking about Natasha, and Bruce decided to cut right to the chase.

"Clint, what would you do if Natasha was killed?"

Clint visibly flinched and stared at Bruce for a moment. His answer was urgent and insistent, laced with an undertone of panic and pain, and Bruce couldn't help but be surprised at Clint's intensity.

"I'd kill the bastard that did it, and then I'd follow her," he said, dropping his eyes away from Bruce's.

Bruce sighed. "Well, I wouldn't necessarily encourage that action, but the sentiment is the same," he said quietly. "You love her, Clint. That much is obvious. I think she loves you, too."

Clint paused, and in the silence Bruce heard him take a deep, shuddering breath. "Do you think so?" He whispered, sounding more vulnerable than Bruce had ever heard him. "I am just afraid of losing her friendship. You saw how she stormed off earlier. We're both so volatile."

Bruce bowed his head. "Taking a step like that always runs a risk," he said. "But, Clint, I've seen the way you two act around each other. She was jealous of the waitress earlier. Even if she doesn't feel the same way about you, which would shock me, clearly your friendship is important to her. She wouldn't sacrifice your friendship just because things would be awkward for a while."

The archer sighed, took one more deep breath, and stood up. He clapped Bruce on the shoulder. "I'll think about that. Thanks, Bruce."

Clint walked inside, and Bruce couldn't hide the small smile that made its way onto his face. He only hoped that Clint would take the next step and talk to Natasha. God knows they both deserved it.

* * *

Clint finally found Natasha sitting on another balcony watching the stars. He slowly opened the door, and as was her usual, she reacted both defensively and offensively: falling into a fighting stance and looking prepared to lunge at him.

"Just me," Clint said softly, sitting next to her as she relaxed. "I just wanted to talk."

"What is it?" Natasha asked, keeping her head down, feeling unbearably shy.

Clint turned to face Natasha, and shocked her by taking one of her hands in both of his. He just held it, periodically running his thumb over the back of it. "Clint?" She asked softly, but he ignored her. Finally, he looked up.

"Being partners with you is probably the best thing that's ever happened to me," he said quietly. "You know how to read me. You can tell when I'm injured and don't want to say, when there's something wrong, when I've let my guard down because I'm upset. You just get me."

Natasha's thoughts were racing, and she was about to say something, but Clint cut her off. "Let me finish, please," he whispered. "I… I thought for the longest time that we had just been lucky to get partners that were so well-matched," he said. "But I think I get you as well as you get me, and that just doesn't happen." Natasha nodded emphatically to agree with him.

"I thought we were just partners," Clint said, his voice trembling slightly. "But I've realized that's not what I want."

"Clint–" Natasha began to cut him off, but he wouldn't let her. Clint closed his eyes, looking more nervous than she had ever seen him.

"I'm in love with you, Nat, and I think I always have been," Clint said, his voice dropping to a tentative whisper. "We're partners. But I want to be best friends and lovers and _yours_."

Natasha stared at him for a long moment, and Clint searched her eyes, trying to find some answer there – anything that would help eradicate the anxiety pooled in his stomach, one way or the other.

Finally, she spoke. "I'm scared, Clint," she said softly. "I'm so scared of being with someone. I'm scared of losing them, of losing... you. I'm just frightened."

Clint stared a moment longer, and then words came to him. "I'm scared, too," he said, clutching her hand tighter. "I've heard you say that love is for children. But this, Natasha, this feels real. You and me – I think we could do this, I want to do this. I love you, Nat, and you have to decide if you feel that, too."

There was a moment's pause, and then suddenly Natasha's lips were against Clint's, her hands fisted in his shirt. Clint recovered from the surprise well and put his arms around her waist, pulling her against his chest, fitting perfectly.

After a moment, Natasha pulled back and stared at Clint for a long moment. "I've been feeling the same way for a while now," she said softly. "I wanted to impress you, and be with you all the time, as always, and when you took my place and got tortured… God, Clint, I was so guilty, but so afraid. We've been in tight situations before, but that was the first time I truly felt I could have lost you, and that it would have been my fault. I think that's when it started. But I swear, Clint, you…" She paused and shifted his arms to around his neck, pulling closer to him.

"I've never felt so in tune with someone. It's like when I move, you move, and vice versa. It's like you can read my mind, and are constantly looking out for what's best for me. I've never had that before, Clint, and I didn't know how to handle it. As a general rule, I don't trust men, Clint… you know that better than anyone."

Natasha took a deep breath and met Clint's eyes once more. "Despite all that, Clint, I want to be beautiful for you. I want to be with you." She paused and ran her hands through his hair. "I – I – I love you, Clint."

She leaned forward impulsively and kissed him again, the kiss deepening quickly. "Yours," she murmured against his lips, feeling Clint smile in return.

"Yours," he agreed.

* * *

When Clint and Natasha came back into the living room, Tony, Thor, Steve, Bruce, and even Pepper were gathered around the television, preparing to start some sort of movie marathon. Everyone glanced over at them, but only Tony really saw. He shot out of his chair like a firecracker and ran over to them, grabbing their entwined hands and holding them high.

"Hand holding, ladies and gentlemen! We have hand holding!" Tony cried. "Look, guys! We did it! It worked!" The rest of the Avengers also jumped up in celebration.

Clint and Natasha just stared. "What?" Clint finally said meekly, letting go of Natasha's hand. It was apparent that they hadn't actually intended to display their relationship to everyone else.

Steve looked sheepish. "We thought that there might be going on between you guys," he said. "We decided to start making a few comments to try and… help it along. It appears it worked."

"Congratulations!" Bruce interjected feebly, waiting to hear their reactions.

Natasha looked furious for a moment, but then she turned to Clint. "Maybe we needed the help," she said, grinning at him.

Clint smiled back. "Because there was _definitely_ something there," he replied, leaning down and kissing her.

For the next few moments, the only sounds that could be heard were the television and Tony dancing around the room, crying out periodically, "They are so in love! I was right! I was so right!"


End file.
